Mellifluous Dreams
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: He should have realised that loving her would lead to his eventual doom, but really, what was he to do? /Samelie, for Summer, Maddi and Blue


A/N: This oneshot is dedicated to Blue, Summer and Maddi, three amazing people who one hundred percent deserve this. [they deserve one each but I have no plot bunnies and this isn't very good, so...]

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

He knows he shouldn't; he knows that to love the most powerful – and yet most vulnerable – woman in Morganville is wrong, that it won't get him anything other than a death sentence in the end, but it's a love that's irrevocable. No matter what she does to him, no matter what she says, he's aware that he knows the truth (she _does_ love him, she does) and that he'll never accept anything else, not until he sees her look at someone else the way that she looked at him when they were together. It's not a flash burn of love, one that fades almost as instantly as it starts – it's not the lighting of a match, hot and fast, passion erupting everywhere, but more of a soft candle; it lasts an eternity, it seems, something that contains the same passion and heat, yet it burns slower, taking its time to form, and taking an equally long time to end. It leaves its residue at the end of its 'life', along with an aroma in the air that provides a safety net, of sorts, the knowledge that another candle doesn't have to be lit until the memory of the other has faded away.

She can push him away, tell him that he means nothing to her, try and say that the only thing she cares about is the town, but he knows that she's lying. She's always been good at that, he thinks, because she managed to hide her feelings for him – most of the time. She even managed to say that she didn't love him, when she told him that she wasn't going to see him anymore, and that he shouldn't contact her.

(He's always been able to see _right_ through her, and he knows she knows he can.)

There's not been a day that's passed since she left him that he hasn't tried to see her, hasn't written her a letter or, in the modern day, sent an email, as well as trying to see her in person. She doesn't come out in public anymore; he's aware that this is because of him, because of what their relationship made the people of Morganville think, but there's always the hope that she could emerge to talk to _anyone_. Just to see her face again, to be able to whisper into her ear that he loves her if he can, would be more than he has right now. Currently, the only thing in their relationship is the memories of those candlelit dinners in his house, the chaste, fevered kisses in those few weeks between his turning into a vampire and her telling him that they had no future – they don't even have photos together. Only the snapshots of time within his mind, made clearer when he turned into a vampire, prove that they've ever been together, because most of the human population today don't even _know_ who their Founder is.

(He knows…he'll never forget. And as he makes friends with the humans – or as close to friends as they'll allow – he tries to make her sound better than she is. It's all part of loving her, he guesses.)

**~x~**

Then things change. He finds out about Michael, finds out what he wants, and he's no longer trying to see Amelie _just_ for him; he wants to talk to her for Michael as well. This time, he's fed up of being the nice guy, the one who hopes that love for the damned woman will make her realise what a mistake she's made.

He gets shirty.

"_Fuck_!" he curses, slamming his hands into the reinforced desk in the downstairs of the building where he _knows_ Amelie is. He knows she's listening to the conversation from upstairs – or he hopes, at least – because she has to still love him, and she must find it as hard as he does, for them to be apart. "I don't give a toss, alright? This isn't about me. I'm here for _Michael_, you know, the boy who nobody has seen in over a year! I want to speak to Amelie. Now," he's as authoritative as he can be with the receptionist who holds her nerve, as she has done for the past however many years he's been coming here.

He doesn't know if she's the same one or not. They're all the same, all people holding him back from Amelie.

She's about to reply, to probably tell him that Amelie doesn't care, when the woman appears herself.

For the first time in thirty seven years, he's seen her in person – and not just a glimpse. She's looking at him, her eyes on _him_, and there's not a shred of difference about her; they may as well have only seen one another yesterday, if he was wearing clothes from that era as well.

"Michael, you say." She doesn't greet him, doesn't even make it obvious that she recognises him, and it breaks his heart a little, to see her so _cold_, so impervious to him.

"He…he wants to become a vampire."

She nods slowly, her eyes clouding over, and he realises that not only has he missed her, but he's actually managed to love her even _more_ during their time apart. All the anger and resentment has just been clouding a growing love, something that threatens to consume him, to make him tell her things he knows she's well aware of, yet doesn't want to admit.

"Then let us give him what he desires." He wants to yell at her, to tell her, _no_, she _can't_ turn his last relative in town into _this_, to put him in the middle of a world so very different to everything he's ever known, but he can't. Michael wants this, and he has to respect his wishes. But something in Amelie's eyes makes him realise that she feels the same way, that she doesn't want him to be turned, for whatever reason, and it's in a soft voice that she says, "I'm only doing this for you, Samuel. Only because _you_ asked me."

And any doubt he could possibly have had about her still loving him vanishes. There's no chance on this Earth that she couldn't love him, not after saying that.

It doesn't help, though.

**~x~**

He half wants to try and see her again, to cite needing to discuss Michael as a reason to hear the chimes of her voice, to have the chance to see once again what his mind recalls with a vivid recollection, but he doesn't. There's no chance that she'll see him again, besides if she wants something, because it's obvious that Michael won't need her. And she'll know if he does, from the bond between the new vampire and the creator…he has no way of getting to her.

But he finds himself desiring her even more than before, finds there to be no respite in his thoughts about her, because he's had the chance to see her again, and he'll do whatever she wants. If she would speak to him for just _one_ minute, to tell him again that she doesn't want to see him ever again, he would probably do it, because _she_ asked him to. Whatever she wants, he'll give her. Especially if it means he can protect her from something, to destroy something that could hurt her, could break her heart, because Morganville without Amelie wouldn't be anywhere he would want to live.

(This will lead to his death one day, his inane desire to protect her and do what she desires, and he's well aware of this. He just hopes that it'll be worth it, in the end, that she'll tell him she loves him first.)

Then, one day, she summons him to her office.

He's more than aware that he shouldn't get his hopes up, that seeing her is most likely for a strictly business related purpose, yet he can't help but wonder whether or not _today_ is the day she decides to tell him that she's been lying for the past half a century; it's always got to be _one_ day, right?

Only after she's told him that she wants him to accompany her new Protectee (with the same bracelet _he_ had, all those years ago) does he realise that there's no chance that she's going to say that. Amelie acts for her own self-gain…and giving him verbal confirmation wouldn't help her; it would just make her more vulnerable.

"And if I refuse?" he can't help but try and push for another meeting with her, to try and not do what she wants him to do, even though he's already aware he'll do anything for her. At least, he'll do it this once and then come back and tell her that it's far too dangerous for Claire to be going to Myrnin, someone who he only knows about from when _she_ told him about the vampire disease at the same time as he was imagining her without that purple dress.

She doesn't play games; she just looks at him with a cool smile, one that makes him realise that she can see through him as easily as he can see through her pretences, probably even easier given her life experience. "Then I'll _force_ you to do it, Samuel. I know you are aware of what power I have. I have never had the need to use it with you before, yet if I _must_…" he can hear the threat in her voice, hear the way that she has to force herself to use it with him, because there's no way that you're going to be _happy _threatening a loved one, are you?

"Fine. But know that if it's too dangerous, I don't care _what_ you say. I'm taking her out. Then if you want to force me, try it…but I can't say that I'll do it." He's as bold as he's ever been with Amelie before, openly defying her desires to her face, and he feels great about it. For the first time, he's shown her that he's more than just some lovesick puppy who wants to follow her around; he's more than willing to question her orders, and he'll carry on until the bitter end.

She doesn't reply, and he decides to leave whilst he's ahead, knowing that their relationship won't make a bit of difference whatsoever if she decides to make him remember who created him as a vampire, that she has ultimate power over him.

(It just hurts a bit more than before to leave her, because now he knows that he's important to her, even now.)

**~x~**

He's sure that this is the end.

He's sure that, as he lies on the tarmac of Lot Street, he's had his life; he won't be able to make it, especially if Amelie won't see him. And he realises that he's not really _had_ a life, has he? All he's done is love Amelie, love her without condition, and that would be enough if she showed she loves him back; just small words, nothing much, and he would be happily content with his lot.

Death has come for him prematurely; it shouldn't come, really, for a vampire, and he sure as hell hasn't done anything to anger anyone…besides for maybe his love for Amelie…or to protect Michael. Maybe this death is because he's always loved Amelie, no matter what she's done, and now it's time for her to love him without having the chance to go to him.

Whatever the reason, he's sure that this is the end and that, however tentative the link, it's related to Amelie.

**.**

Or maybe it's not.

He can feel her soft fingers on his temples, and it's reminiscent of the time when she staunched his bleeding wound, her tears dripping onto his face and mixing with his own, the first time that they were properly _together._ She's talking to him, but he can't make out the words, only knows that she's talking to _him_ because he can make out the way that her mouth forms his name; it's always been a peculiar shape, something that let him know when she was discussing him, back when he couldn't hear as far away.

He finds himself trying to tell her he loves her, trying to grasp her hand incase he _does_ die now, incase he's taken away to whatever comes after life and torn away from Amelie forever more; he wouldn't want her to die just to follow him, because she's the life force of this town…and that's sort of part of the reason he loves her.

She saves him, and he finds himself in her debt again, debt left over from when Melinda died, to when her falling in love with him saved himself from a downward spiral of depression and isolation, when she turned him because he was _stupid_ enough to think he was some sort of God who could rescue those trapped by old, crazy Edgar. He's never going to feel equal to her (not that he _could_, he doesn't think, since he's nothing without her) because she's always the one saving _him_; it's never the other way around.

(He doesn't know that he's the one who saved her from spending her last years of complete sanity alone and afraid, the one who gave her a reason to try and _fight_ to live.)

As he stares into her eyes, he can see how much his words, "I love you," mean to her, see that, if things were different, they would never leave one another's side. They'd be the perfect couple, strolling along in the park and playing chess in the afternoon, before snuggling together on a night. If they could grow old, they'd do all these things. Then again, they should never have technically met; if the laws of time, space and _sanity_ (who would believe in vampires?) held, she would have been dead over one thousand years ago, and they'd never have had the chance to meet.

He relishes the feeling of her skin on his face, the knowledge that they love one another sealed securely in his mind, and he realises that he would have died, if it had protected her. If it's between the two of them, he'd rather die, because the world existed without _him_ for far longer than it has _with_ him, and there would be no purpose in a world without Amelie.

Within a few more moments, he's telling her everything that's happened, and there's a change in the mood; gone has the feeling that they're the only two people in the room, because they're not. She's aware that showing more emotion like this will lead to her downfall through _him_, and she doesn't want that…and he doesn't want her to lose control of her town. So he obliges, deciding to hide his feelings until there comes a time when the battlelines are drawn in Morganville, and he can openly show his feelings for Amelie without having to worry about who the enemy is.

Before she leaves the room, their eyes meet once again; grey meets sapphire blue, and it's as though they've never met at the same time as knowing everything about the other. She's confused and weary; he's stubborn and truly, madly, deeply in love – but they're both showing the way that they know they couldn't go back to a time when they didn't know the other's eyes.

(That's the way that love is supposed to work…until she leaves at about the time they should have kissed, if this was a traditional love story.)

**~x~**

The first time she allows him to hold her is when they're underground. It's only allowed to happen underground, as this is their only safe hide out, now that Bishop has control of Morganville – on the surface, at least.

(He's got his battlelines drawn, and she's more than happy to indulge in _Sam_, as she's well aware they could both perish within days.)

"We shouldn't," she murmurs as he wraps his arms around her waist, kicking the door shut because he wants to kiss her, for once without every eye on them. "We _shouldn't,_ Sam. We should be out there, planning to destroy my Father…we should be…"

He cuts her off with a kiss, their first in over fifty years, and the tenderness of it stops all her protests; she's speechless as their lips lock, cherry red on a more natural pale pink, because it's the reason she's fighting, really.

"We _should_," he argues back as he pulls away, looking into her eyes. Instantly, he knows he's won, that she's not going to argue again. "We deserve it, Amelie. Hiding away only gets you so far; it doesn't allow you to live your life, to be with the one you love. We're going to destroy your Father anyway, Amelie, so why can't I just _hold_ you, just for a minute?"

There's no fight left in her. He's right, he always is, and she can't deny it, for to do so would be a sin against the purest man she's ever known, the one who she fights for. So her arms wrap around him even more tightly than before, trying to imagine what it would be like to grow old with this man now he's in her arms. "You're right, Sam, as always."

It's with relish that he realises she's back to calling him Sam, rather than the stuffier _Samuel_ she's preferred for years, and he kisses her softly on the tip of her nose, unsure what to do now he's finally _got_ her.

"I always am, sweetheart, I always am."

(Little does he know that maybe, just maybe, in a few months time, _she'll_ be right, that he should listen to her and not go out with her to meet their doom. As when people are in love, there's always _one_ who is doomed, right?)

**~x~**

It's a blessing, he thinks, that he's able to be in _her_ arms as he dies, because he doesn't think he'd be able to be this brave otherwise. It's not bravery, not really, but more that he doesn't want her to think that he's sad, because that would make for the rest of her existence being painful. He'd rather she mourned and then moved on, probably back to whomever she loved before him, than her never get over him. He's only part of her life, the part which may be the greatest, or it may be the part with the least consequence overall…all he knows is that he's dying with her, and that's the best death he could have ever hoped for.

He knew the minute he fell in love with her that, ultimately, he was doomed; you can't fall in love with someone like _Amelie_ the way he has, and not be. And, really, there couldn't be a better way to go than protecting the woman whom he adores; he's always had a sort of superhero complex, he supposes, and if it means that the girl is saved, maybe death won't be so bad.

The last thing he registers is her face, the pain and fear only making her more beautiful. The last thing he feels is the feeling of her lips pressing down softly onto his, tasting of that sweet smell only _she_ has.

The lids close over his sapphire blue eyes and as he fades out, he hears, "I will always love you."

In this moment, he realises that everything he's done, what he's died for, it's all been worth it.

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A/N 2: I'd appreciate it if you liked it enough to favourite, that you leave a review alongside it. Thanks!

Vicky xx


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